STRIP POKER - GORMENGHAST STYLE
by Catcher-in-the-Rye
Summary: On an uneventful night in Gormenghast there arose a foul game that would forever change Gormenghast - Strip Poker!
1. HA! Never thought you saw that coming!

This is completely out of character, and stereotypical, but I would like to announce (for the record) that I have read the books and find the miniseries intolerably spastic (in a good way) . . .  
  
  
  
Prunesquallor grinned and yelled, "Royal Flush, read 'em and weep fellas!" Laying down the cards with a flourish.  
  
"Aw man!" Lord Groan slurred, throwing down his cards and taking an excessive slurp of his tequila.  
  
At this point it was 11:32 and the royal family of Groan had collected in Prunesquallor's home to play a ::cough:: harmless game of strip poker and just a little drinking. Most of the family members (not including the prunesquallors who were unusually prone to taking off their clothes) had most of their clothes on - but the night was young . . .  
  
Each member at the table grudgingly removed a piece of their clothing, piling their items in the corner of Prunesquallor's study.  
  
Steerpike remained strangely motionless.  
  
Gertrude yelled with a burp, "TAKE IT OFF, BABY!"  
  
Fuchsia nudged him with a sharp elbow, "Yeah, I didn't wait all this time fer nothin! I expect a show, DAMMIT!"  
  
"YEAH!" Yelled a voice in the corner.  
  
Irma stared, "Was tha' YOU Alfred?!"  
  
Alfred shrugged, "Well, what did you expect? I've GOTTA be around fifty, and even though I DID hit on Fuchsia fer a bit-"  
  
Fuchsia nodded knowingly.  
  
"-I'VE GOTTA BE GAY."  
  
Gertrude belched, "Hey Groanie, you owe me fifty bucks."  
  
Lord Groan shuddered, "Aw, do I have to?"  
  
"WAIT, I still wanna see why Steerpike ain't takin' off his clothes!" Fuchsia yelled over her father  
  
"Hey, that's a good point." Irma agreed, turning her interest to the (now pale) Steerpike.  
  
::Silence::  
  
"Well?" The Poet asked, peeking his head out of the bathroom.  
  
"Well I . . ." (Steerpike muttered unintelligibly)  
  
"Eh?" Lord Groan grunted.  
  
"I'm NOT WEARING UNDERWEAR!"  
  
::Silence::  
  
"That's not a bad thing . . ."  
  
"I'm going commando myself . . ."  
  
"HEHEHEHE!"  
  
The latter came from Irma, who was now giggling insensibly.  
  
"Well, I'm wearing enough underclothes for the lot of us!" Fuchsia said, scratching irritably.  
  
Steerpike glanced at Fuchsia incredulously.  
  
"Take it off then!" Grunted Bellgrove, who until then had lost his voice due to an alarming amount of tequila.  
  
Steerpike took off his shirt (with no undershirt, mind you) and let everyone drool over his delicious, perfect, indescribably . . . ::ahem:: torso to a crowd of cheers.  
  
"I knew I would see it again!" Screamed Irma.  
  
Fuchsia smiled warmly at Steerpike and they shared a meaningful moment.  
  
"SO!" Boomed Gertrude, "Let's go fer another round!"  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!! I LIVE FOR REVIEWS!!!!!!! 


	2. Or this either!

I forgot to include a disclaimer and rating last time . . .er . . so here it is - I don't own the Groans, wish I did, etc., etc.  
  
I know there's such a small audience of Gorm fans, but PLEASE REVIEW!!!! Now I know that sounded desperate . . . ;) But still . . . :D  
  
***** And the game continues *******  
  
  
  
Fuchsia put on her best poker face and stared abjectly at the cards in her hand. She paused for another long moment, debating whether or not she would draw a card.  
  
Steerpike (Knocking back a shot of 151 Biccarrdi Rum and pouring another) For the love of God Fuchsia, it's not that hard to do - Just go!  
  
Fuchsia, (giving Steerpike a look of irritation) "Sorry if I don't want to lose ALL my clothes in one game!"  
  
"Hey, I had a bad hand!" shouted a (nearly bare)Bellgrove from the kitchen.  
  
Both Steerpike and Fuchsia gave Bellgrove an irate glance.  
  
"On with it then!" One of the Professors squealed, provoking a glance from Alfred.  
  
Fuchsia took two cards, giving Steerpike a look of intense displeasure.  
  
"Why am I here again?" echoed the Poet's voice from the bathroom.  
  
"Ha!" Lord Groan laughed, laying his cards down with a grin, "Full House!"  
  
Everyone groaned, throwing down their cards and taking off an article of clothing.  
  
Steerpike: Belt  
  
Gertrude: A bird (just one of them, thank God . . .)  
  
Bellgrove: Sock  
  
Fuchsia: Dress (Steerpike tried not to stare)  
  
Prunesquallor: Sequined platforms  
  
Irma: Petticoat  
  
Professors: Erm . . . Robes  
  
Poet: Still (oblivious) in bathroom  
  
"HEY!" Gertrude shouted, pointing at Irma struggling with her brassiere, "She's trying to take off more!"  
  
Steerpike whispered loudly, "Irma, you only have to take off one piece of clothing."  
  
Irma blushed madly, "Oh, I didn't think anyone would mind . . . ." She smiled seductively, preening evocatively.  
  
The table shuddered.  
  
Steerpike coughed, "So, where's the rest of the alcohol?"  
  
TO BE CONTINUED . . . . . . . 


	3. He. He. He.

Disclaimer: I own nothing! And remember, I this is humor, if you are offended, then please don't review - instead send an email and I will explain word for word the meaning of disclaimer and humor. Thanks!  
  
Plot: What plot?  
  
******************and the game continues*****************  
  
A faint knocking on the door of Prunesquallor's house interrupted the rioting cheers emancipating from the study.  
  
Everyone at the table paused, darting glances from one another.  
  
"GIN!!!!" One of the professors yelled throwing his cards on the table.  
  
Prunesquallor slowly lowered his tequila, " . . .who didn't we invite?"  
  
The door burst open with a sudden blow and three intimidating figures filled the narrow hallway.  
  
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUTTERSNIPE?"  
  
Steerpike dropped his glass.  
  
"Where are you, you naughty girl, oh my weak heart!"  
  
"Oh no . . ." Fuchsia gasped.  
  
"Why is everyone here, why can't anyone like me? I HATE GORMENGHAST!!!!"  
  
Expressions of horror filled the table.  
  
"Quick!" Lord Groan yelled, hiding under the coffee table.  
  
The Prunesquallors (who were coincidentally on either side of Steerpike) yelped and hid in the liquor cabinet . . . as an afterthought they grabbed a bewildered Steerpike with them.  
  
Bellgrove and the rest of the professors hurriedly jumped out of the windows while Fuchsia haphazardly hid behind the drapes.  
  
The three silouettes clouded in the (now vacant) room.  
  
"I TOLD you they wouldn't be here, they're never here, I hate them because they always go to the rituals, I HATE the rituals, I wish they were all-"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Barquentine barked savagely.  
  
"Oh where's Fuchsia? Oh my weak heart, she's probably run away from me, oh she doesn't deserve me that wretched girl!!"  
  
A rustling on the table of the cards being moved accompanied Nannie Slagg's words.  
  
The liquor cabinet squeaked.  
  
"SEE! They're not here, why did you make me come all the way here?! You ALWAYS make me go everywhere, when do I get to decide?!"  
  
"SHUT UP!!!" Nannie Slagg and Barquentine yelled, finally silencing Titus.  
  
The liquor cabinet yelped.  
  
"Come on, they're not HERE," Barqentine yelled, slamming the study door.  
  
Their footsteps echoed down the hall.  
  
Silence.  
  
The front door slammed.  
  
Lord Groan peeked from beneath the coffee table as Fuchsia pushed aside the drapes.  
  
"WOOOO!!! They're gone!"  
  
Everyone dispersed from their respective hiding places, with an exception of the silent liquor cabinet.  
  
Fuchsia crept to the liqour cabinet,"Dr. Prunesquallor? Steerpike?"  
  
Silence.  
  
Fuchsia kicked the mohogany door of the cabinet.  
  
The Prunesquallors and Steerpike yelped as they burst from the cabinet.  
  
"What happened?" Fuchsia inquired, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Errm . . . Nothing." Steerpike said, brushing himself off as he threw a dirty look at the Prunesquallors.  
  
Irma fidgeted,"I TOLD you he didn't like that Alfred, but NO, you had to, just like LAST time . . ."  
  
"Hey, I WASN'T the one who visited him every Thursday night giving him "medicene", I heard him  
  
screaming to get out of the house!"  
  
Steerpike coughed loudly, causing the senile siblings to jump.  
  
Fuchsia smiled as she laughed a little behind her hand, "So that's the reason Steerpike was so eager to get to become Barquentine's apprentice. . ."  
  
Steerpike's face constricted, "No, no, that wasn't the reason, I-"  
  
The Groans split into identical ear-splitting grins.  
  
***************  
  
Please R/R! ::cough:: as I explained before in my disclaimer, this is just a joke, if you are offended, then don't review - this is humor! Not meant to be taken seriously! 


	4. Romance?

Author's Note: I know it's been forever, but I've been busy with exams -- honestly! Anyway, this installment is somewhat different from the others, but PLEASE REVIEW, and tell me if I should continue along this vein.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue!  
  
  
  
"That's disappointing."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So . . . now what?"  
  
Steerpike and Fuchsia continued to stare grimly at the empty icebox.  
  
"WHERSH THE BLOODY ALCOHOL?!?!" Gertrude's voice boomed from the study, sounding profoundly disgruntled.  
  
Steerpike shot a glance at Fuchsia.  
  
  
  
"I'm not breaking the news to your mother."  
  
  
  
"There is no way I am." Fuchsia whispered fiercely.  
  
  
  
"Fuchsia, really, look at me, she'd break me in two, and then eat the pieces-"  
  
  
  
I'm not going be the one to do it! She's mad enough at me as it is after I beat her at three games!"  
  
  
  
Steerpike shivered at the memory, "God, Fuchsia, you have to warn me when you are going to bring up your mother's state of clothes in this game, I had my mouth open and everything . . . "  
  
  
  
"Will you do it?" Fuchsia persisted, raising her eyebrows.  
  
  
  
Steerpike glanced at Fuchsia as he shuffled with the icebox, posing an air of casualty as his gaze hovered to the thin chimese of her corset, now half laced, the intricately embroidered silk slightly open at the collar.  
  
Fuchsia's gaze followed to where his gaze lay. She yelped as she tightened the strings of her corset, her face blushing a bright vermillion.  
  
Steerpike grimaced, his gaze falling to the cool tile, his complexion mirroring hers.  
  
  
  
"Steerpike?"  
  
  
  
"My lady?" Steerpike's gaze stayed locked on the ground, a faint blush still tinging his cheeks.  
  
  
  
"Alfred and Irma be jealous if they see us." Fuchsia's face lowered, her voice no more than a whisper.  
  
  
  
Steerpike's head darted up, "Fuchsia, honestly, if you're going to bring up THAT again . . ."  
  
  
  
Fuchsia blushed fiercely once more, the edges of her fingertips tentatively brushing the dark strands of his hair tentatively. Realizing her boldness she paled and pulled her hands away.  
  
Slowly, and with precise effort, Steerpike caught one of her hands, gauging her reaction as his cool hands gently pulled hers closer, lightly touching his chest.  
  
"What are you two doing?" A silouette clouded the door-frame, stumbling heavily as he tripped on a cube of ice.  
  
Fuchsia and Steerpike jerked away from each other, chancing a glance at the stumbling form.  
  
  
  
"Ouch."  
  
  
  
"Poet?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
  
  
"How did you get out of the bathroom . . . ?"  
  
  
  
"I'd like to know is how I got IN the bathroom . . ."  
  
  
  
"HEY?!" The three figures on the floor looked (wincingly) up at the sound of Gertude's voice.  
  
  
  
"WHERSH THE TEQUILA?!?!"  
  
  
  
The Poet side-stepped her and glanced down at Steerpike and Fuchsia, a half- smile teasing the edges of his lips as he glanced at the two (blushing fiercely) figures.  
  
  
  
"I think I know what they were doing . . ."  
  
  
  
Lord Groan peeked his head in. "What?"  
  
  
  
Poet grinned mischieviously at Bellgrove as they hooked arms, prancing around the still figures, "Steerpike and Fuchsia sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S- I-N-G!!! First comes love-"  
  
"You know, this is extremely out of character . . . " Steerpike mumbled.  
  
By this time the Professors had joined in dancing.  
  
Fuchsia buried her face in her hands.  
  
The remaining Groans and Prunesquallors started singing the chorus.  
  
  
  
PLEASE REVIEW! 


End file.
